


The Joke

by 1000lux



Series: Does your journey still continue? [5]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Happy Ending, Heahmund is conflicted, Heahmund meets Lagertha, Heahmund meets the seer, Ivar has feelings, M/M, Religion, The joke, Trust, because I don't do it any other way, my version of what I thought the joke was going to be, rough sex and also not at all rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-04 07:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13359033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: Heahmund is captured. Loyalties are tested. Or was there ever any loyalty to begin with? In the end it's Heahmund's decision. But it's Ivar's decision too.





	The Joke

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to either tv show or characters.
> 
> My version of The Joke, written before I'd actually watched the episode. So, since my story has divided from canon long ago, this part doesn't exactly match either. Even though I have to admit, for once canon actually fitted into what I wanted to do anyway just fine.
> 
> Finally this monster is finished. I hope all of you can find some solace in it.

_Heahmund, I do not want to be right. I want to believe in you. I want to believe that is this world, there is someone who never lies. Cheats. Or compromises. Who is always... noble._

***

"Will you betray me?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't believe one word you say."

"Have some faith, Ivar."

*

Heahmund only felt the well-known feeling of being pulled under. Hands dragging on him. His feet loosing their footing in the mudd. His sword-arm suddenly too heavy to hold his weapon. Then everything went black.

*

"What do you mean he is not there?!" Ivar yelled into Hvitserk's dismayed face. "You must have at least found his body! I doubt the Valkyries would have taken that with them!" Ivar didn't for a moment know if he would have preferred Heahmund having run from the battle and deserted him, over him being dead. A moment later he still didn't know.

"We have searched. He is not there."

"I want to search myself." Ivar replied quickly, before another thought occured to him. A much more welcome one. "So the bitch has him." A pause, mind continuing to spin. "Now the only question is, what do I have?"

From outside a voice called, "Ivar, we have found your brother!"

"Let's see him then." Ivar murmured, more to himself than his brother still in front of him, before he let himself to the ground, crawling outside.

"Hello, brother." Ivar said, grinning up from the ground, as Ubbe was lead towards him.

He looked battleworn, but not particularly injured. Both his hands were tied behind his back.

"Ivar." Ubbe greeted his younger brother, wariness in his eyes.

"We meet again." Ivar turned to one of his men. "Get him a chair! Me as well." 

Ivar happily climbed onto his own, as Ubbe was seated on his.

"Who'd thought we'd sit here and talk like this, huh, Ubbe?" Ivar asked, malicious cheer in his voice. "Tell me, then, how is everyone? How is Margrete? Am I going to be an uncle soon?"

"I'm not going to beg you to spare my life, Ivar." Ubbe simply replied.

Ivar's eyes went comically wide. "Oh, I'm not going to kill you, Ubbe!" He slapped him on the thigh. "You're my brother." His face soured again. "Even though none of you wanted to avenge our mother."

*

"Who says they won't kill Ubbe?" Bjorn asked.

"I doubt it," Lagertha replied, smiling. "And if the priest is of so little importance to Ivar after all, then he would have been of no use to us either way."

"You don't care about Ubbe at all, do you, mother?"

"I care about all of Ragnar's sons." Lagertha said sternly. "But most of all I care about you, my son." She took his face into both her hands, nodding at him tenderly. "And about Kattegat." She pressed his cheek for a moment before letting go, turning back to the fire. "And your worries are for nothing. Ivar would give us far more than just your brother to have the priest back." She smiled wistfully. "He is just like your father in that."

*

Heahmund didn't know how long he'd been lying there on the ground, cloth obscuring his vision, only the smell of earth and clay telling him a bit about where he was. Voices outside of whatever building he was in, too faint to make sense of.

Then hands grabbed him again and dragged him off. More by instinct than anything else he fought back, even though both his hands and feet were tied.

He was set down harshly on a chair. The hood was pulled off his face. 

At first he saw nothing. Rough silhouettes. Then he saw them. And knew them.

In front of him was the the tall man he'd defeated in battle, who Ivar had later told him was his brother Bjorn, and Lagertha, the woman who led the army they were fighting against. She looked different, when she wasn't splattered in blood, her face not patterned with warpaint. Different too, than she'd looked from a distance in Uppsala. The high priestess to her people. Now she was not a warrior, not a priestess. Now she was a queen.

"We have an offer for you, priest." said said, crouching down in front of him in a gracefull, effortless move, with the self-evident power and confidence of a monarch. "You are a prisoner of Ivar. You have no ties to his community or this war. We have no quarrel with each other. I have known a priest like you. Well, not exactly like you." She smiled and she knew how beautiful she was, how many men would kill to be with her. "I don't understand your god, but I don't hate him like Ivar or King Harald do. If you help me, I will help you." She shrugged, like it was simple. "Help me defeat Ivar, without me having to sacrifice anymore men and women, in this war I've never wanted. And I will have a ship send you back to Wessex. Once this war is done. What do you say?"

"I accept."

"Now, Hvitserk, who wants to return to his other brothers, told me that you and Ivar have grown close. Is that true?"

"Can the lamb ever grow close to the serpent?" Heahmund answered meeting her eyes and holding her stare, a small smile dancing around the corners of his mouth.

She tilted her head, bemused. "I don't think so. Can they?"

"They cannot, Queen Lagertha."

"We are in agreement then, Bishop Heahmund?" The way she said his name, as if it rolled foreign of her tongue, still eying him, sizing him up. And he could tell she was interested in him.

"Yes, we are. I will help you end this war and you will give me my freedom."

*

He lay with her that night. She wanted it and it was easy for him. She was a beautiful woman. Not the kind of woman he had known before, but then, there weren't any women like her in his country.

"You interest me." she said, later, running a hand over his still naked torso, as the lay between the furs in front of the fire. "You have interested me since I first heard of you. The Christian warrior-priest Ivar brought back from England. I could not quite believe it. We have had Christian priests here. But none of them could fight." She laughed. "I should think my husband would have had a much harder time, had there been men like you at Lindisfarne. And who knows, maybe we would have never returned."

"The monk, Athelstan, you have known him."

A small smile played across her mouth. "He lived in my house for many years. He watched Bjorn grow up. He was there when my daughter Gyda died. He was a part of my family." Her face turned wistful again. "He stayed with my husband when I left. He stayed with my husband when he should have left too. Had he not come back, maybe he would still be alive." She paused, caught up again in memories of the past. A small smile the, biting her lip. She ran a hand through her now unruly hair. "Did you know, Ragnar used to wear Athelstan's cross around his neck till the day of his death. Or so I would assume. I wasn't there when he died."

"You loved him very much."

"I still love him, Heahmund. But what good does that do me, huh?" Still good-natured, not mad at him for the question. She fell quiet. Then, "You are not at all like any Christian priest I've met. I don't think Athelstan ever touched a woman."

"He was more pious than me then."

She smiled, rolling over to face Heahmund, their faces close now, her hair falling onto his shoulder. "Or maybe he was just too intimidated by me."

"Maybe." Heahmund conceded.

"You are not easy to intimidate."

Heahmund chuckled, thinking of Ivar. "No, I'm not."

"I didn't think you would be. After I'd seen you in battle. But then, men are not always like they are in battle."

"Hopefully not."

She laughed at that, throwing her head back, jabbing him playfully on the shoulder. "I'm glad you didn't kill my son. I would have had to kill you otherwise. And I wouldn't have been able to sate my curiosity."

"So, now you have met me." Heahmund said.

"Now I have met you." Lagertha agreed, with a smile.

"Is your curiosity sated yet?"

*

Later at night it was Bjorn who visited him in his confinement, locked up but no longer in chains.

"Bjorn Ironside." Heahmund greeted him.

"Priest." Bjorn nodded at him.

Bjorn sat down, handing Heahmund a cup of ale. 

"I feel bad betraying my brother like this," Bjorn started off the conversation. "I know how important you are to him. But that is also the reason why it will work." Bjorn shrugged, like all this was inalterable already.

"Oh, Ivar expects me to betray him all the time. I have to admit, though, this setup was smart."

Bjorn smiled faintly. "My brother will not see it coming. While he might see everything else, like the Allfather himself, this he won't see. Because he's just a boy. And I was a boy too, not so long ago that I would not remember. And I know what it's like to be in love. And you know just as well as I do that it is going to work."

"I certainly would have forfeited my life if it didn't." Heahmund replied calmly. He stared into his ale quietly for a moment, watching the swirl of the liquid, the reflection of the only light source in the room, reminding him of the full moon. "You care about your brother, still. Would you kill him?"

"If I have to." Bjorn replied without hesitation. "But if everything goes as planned, we will put him into chains like Fenrir."

"And I'm the one who's supposed to sacrifice his hand?" Heahmund asked good-naturedly.

"No, priest." Bjorn replied. "You are Gleipnir."

Heahmund chuckled.

"You learned about our gods?" Bjorn then said, with pleased surprise.

"You should always know thine enemy."

"Is that really what the Christian god says?"

Heahmund shook his head, laughing. "No. That's what anyone with common sense would say."

*

"Are you worried?" Hvitserk asked.

"I am not worried." Ubbe replied. "And you should not be talking to me."

"That our brother should hold him in such high concern. Higher concern that his own brothers. I have not forgotten what the priest did to us."

"I have forgotten it." Ubbe replied irritated. "And so should you. Our brother Bjorn was defeated in battle by him and even he has no hard feelings against the man. Can't you do the same?"

*

"I want the priest back." Ivar said offhandedly at the beginning of the meeting.

"It is good that we did not kill him, then." Lagertha stated, smiling.

A growl escaped Ivar's mouth. "I have Ubbe." he informed her, a broad fake smile on his face, his eyes telling of death and destruction.

"And we would like to have him back." Lagertha conceded. But, now she leaned closer to Ivar, conversationally. "Since it's just the two of us here. What I'd like back a lot more is Astrid." Bjorn's reaction behind her, showed clearly that that had not been the plan.

Ivar contemplated that. "She is King Harald's wife. Who says she even wants to go with you? She's carrying his child for what I heard."

Lagertha for the first time during this meeting, looked angry. "He abducted her and probably raped her."

"Oh, well." Ivar wiggled his hand. "They looked pretty happy to me. But what do I know of relationships? Right?" He put up his hands apologetically. "Anyway, she is a queen, he's a Christian. What makes you think that he would be worth that price? Even Ubbe is already worth more than him."

"Well, Ivar." She smiled at him broadly, elbows resting on her parted knees. "I think you would give me Astrid. And Ubbe. And every other prisoner you have, if I asked you to."

Ivar wriggled in his seat, annoyance written plain on his face. Then eventually he leaned back, lips pursed in anger. "Well, then I guess, that makes us both stupid. But tell me, what good would it do you to have Astrid back, if that's not where she wants to be?"

"What good does it do you to have your priest around, when that's not where he wants to be?" Lagertha replied evenly, with a smile, hands folded in her lap.

Ivar's face alternated back and forth between a pressed smile and an angry frown, twisting in a way she'd only ever seen before on Ragnar. Lagertha saw Ragnar in many of his sons. Almost constantly in Ubbe. Often in Bjorn. Sometimes in Hvitserk. She rarely ever saw him in Ivar. In Ivar she saw Aslaug. Her hated rival. Her beloved baby-boy, who had the same witch-eyes as her. The same derisive stare and tendency to take what was hers. This time though, she'd taken what was his. And when this was over, if he was still alive, she would keep the priest.   
But then at times, his eyes stopped being those of the witch and suddenly became Ragnar's. Blessed by the gods with both genius and madness. So much more of both than Ragnar'd ever had. And he'd look as Ragnar'd sometimes look, calculative and childish at the same time. Mischievous instead of malevolent, even when he was hurting others. It was hard to hate Ragnar, because of it. It was hard to hate Ivar in this moment. Ragnar had never wanted to hurt anyone, even when he'd so often done just that. Ivar wanted to hurt the whole world. Except the woman Lagertha had killed. And now maybe the priest. Even though, she was sure, if Ivar had been given more time, it would have ended with the priest's death. Ivar was not made to hold onto things he loved, didn't know how to.

"Fine." Ivar eventually concedes, sour and impatient, only wanting to get this meeting over. "I will facilitate a meeting. If she wants to go with you, she can. If she won't, you will give me the priest anyway."

"Agreed."

*

In the end Astrid did not come with her. She should have known that, should have expected it. In the end all betray her. 

Lagertha watched the exchange. The priest's face as unreadable as ever, as he strode across the field, in long, powerful steps, passing Ubbe in the middle. On the other side Ivar with thinly vailed excitement. He was just a child after all. 

A heavy sigh rested in Lagertha's chest. She felt almost bad for defeating him like this. Knowing that this would hurt so much more than losing the war in itself would have had. Well, he was young. You couldn't learn about betrayal soon enough. She had never gotten used to it. Maybe he would. If he lived.

*

"Are you happy to have your pet Christian back?" Heahmund asked sardonically, as he met Ivar on the other side.

"You heard that name, did you? It means nothing." Ivar said offhandedly.

"Oh, I think it means a lot."

"That's what they called the Christian my father loved."

"Your father loved him? I heard that he was his friend."

"My father loved him more than anything or anyone."

*

Ivar's grip around his wrist was like iron, when they reached Kattegat again. Dragging him off, with slow but insistent steps. Heahmund let him. Followed him to Ivar's room, which had become his own, more often than not in the past months.

It is Ivar who pushed him this time, falling on top of him only moments after. Like some feral creature in the twilight of the room.

Later Heahmund was in Ivar's lap, the other's arms closed around him with bruising strength, as if he was worried he would disappear again if he let off just a little. Fucking into Heahmund with brutal strength to match, breathing hard into his ear, murmuring things, curses, words Heahmund didn't understand as his grasp of the language wasn't that good yet. Gasped angry words. Heahmund knew he'd have bruises all over his torso in the morning. He let him have his way with him as he wanted. The pain coiled up with lust only reminder again how unnatural this was, how much of a mortal sin. He had other worries, though, than the searing pain inside him, that despite everything had him still hard, the fingers that dug into his flesh so hard, as if they were trying to break through his ribs.

*

I love you. Never leave me. You are mine forever. I love you. I love you. Ivar had never said those words to another. Not in any other way than a little child tells his mother, or when he was very little his brothers. Thought he would never get to tell those words to anyone. For no one would ever want him and he wouldn't throw these words at anyone just to be insulted. But in this case it was alright. Heahmund hadn't understood. Hadn't known. So Ivar had lost nothing. And gained nothing either.

*

"Lord, give me your strength in my weakness. When I meet problems give me courage to face them.  
Lord, hear me.  
Direct my thought, my words, my actions today, so that I may know, and do, your will.  
Lord, hear me."

"What are you praying, Heahmund?" Ivar asked, only now waking up.

*

"You haven't come to me. So I come to you." Suddenly the man, who they called the seer, was standing in front of him. "Follow me." If he smiled or not, no one could tell, but he sounded like he was smiling.

Heahmund followed him into this den of the occult in it's worst form. Sat down in front of him, despite himself.

"I'm not interested in your witchcraft." Heahmund said.

"Hm-Hm, maybe. Maybe not. Interested in something of ours you are though. Where does your path lead, Heahmund of Hertfortshire, Bishop of Sherborne?" Heahmund was startled by the use of his last name. The title he hadn't even told Ivar. "Has your way led you here to stay or are you bound to return to your own people? You wonder. All is the will of your god, but where does your free will figure in? It is easy to see a plan when you have no choice, but what to choose once you have the power to again?"

"I make my own fate. I don't know if you're a lunatic or a trickster, but one thing I know for sure, I don't need you to make my decisions for me."

"But you pray." The seer laughed. "Day in, day out, you pray for guidance. Beg your god who doesn't answer, to tell you what to do. But you tell me that you make your own decisions? Who tells you, your god hasn't send me to deliver the sign you've been asking for, for months now?"

"You are a heathen. God doesn't send signs through heathens."

"It is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs."

Heahmund was taken aback. "But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table," he replied automatically. "How do you know? Who taught you?"

"Does a bird need teaching when it takes it's first flight? Does a she wolf not know how to give birth when the time comes? It is only us people who think we need to be taught when we should know. I know a great many things. I hear a great many things. I know what the gods let me know. But you, my friend, you are blind. You know neither what our gods want nor what your god wants. Try to listen, my brother. Try to listen what you want yourself. And maybe you will find your god again."

"It's not that easy."

"It never is. Why else would we have been given minds, if every decision was so easily made?"

"What do you see?" Heahmund asked, and he'd never thought he ever would.

"Your god will become the most powerful all over the earth. Not in our lands though. Here your god will never settle as he'd like to, for the people will never forget Thor's thunder. The earth will burn as men fight in the name of the one god. But not in our time, my friend."

The seer extended his hand.

Heahmund shook his head, laughing. "Oh, no, certainly not."

*

Floki's eyes seemed to be following him everywhere today. Watching him with darkness in them. Like he knew.

*

Heahmund still clearly remembered the conversation with Lagertha.

The queen standing in front of the fire. "Ivar will never tell Hvitserk the whole plan. Not Harald either. He's layers upon layers, upon layers. His true thoughts always hidden away." Then she had turned around. "But with you," she pointed her cup at him. "With you he will share them. And you will tell Hvitserk and he will let us know." A smile. "And we shall triumph in battle over him once and for all." Earnest again then, lost in thought. "We will be able to win this battle before it even started. End this whole fucking war."

"Why don't you just ask me to kill him for you, Queen Lagertha?" he'd asked.

She'd smiled at him knowingly. "Because I don't think you would do it. Because it wouldn't do me any good. His men would still be there. Maybe Hvitserk would even lead them against me, the one source of his anger removed by your hand. Harald certainly would not stop fighting. And it would not be right. For Ivar has not tried to have me murdered in my sleep, despite there being enough people who would be willing to do it." He'd seen the bitterness in her face. Had realised that both her and Ivar were very sad and very alone. Among all of these powerful warlords, Harald maybe the only one who was happy.

*

"Let me have you," Heahmund said, thumb rubbing over Ivar's lips as he cupped his face. "Just for tonight."

Ivar's blue eyes watched him, scrutinized him, cut away all layers and pretense. No barbs and mockery tonight. "Alright then." Ivar said. "Have me." A small smile. "For tonight."

Ivar was afraid that much was clear. There was a slight unevenness in his breathing, like he was pausing a moment before breathing out again, like he'd lost his rhythm, forgotten how to do it. As if that wasn't something he could concentrate on right now. He'd been breathing like that when Heahmund had first touched him. Heahmund clearly remembered that short moment when his breathing had stopped for an instant, before unsteadily picking up again, in that same bumpy rhythm. 

Heahmund leaned over him, running his hands down his sides, gentling. Anything he could have said would have only ended in a rageful outburst from Ivar's side.

"I won't hurt you," Heahmund said nevertheless, hand cupping Ivar's neck, thumb running over his jaw.

Ivar laughed disdainfully, voice not quite hitting the tone. "Hurt me? Do you imagine–"

Heahmund stopped the unwanted flow of words. The pretense that would help neither of them any. A pretense of pretense of something that neither of them needed any longer, at this point. It showed how out of his depth Ivar was here, that he let it happen. Ivar's unsteady breath now flowing into Heahmund's mouth.

Yes, just for tonight, Heahmund would have him. Just this once. It was too late now. Over now. The time for decisions was over. And Heahmund did not know if he'd made the right decision. Knew only that he'd made the only possible decision. And he would not question it for now. Time for doubt and regret would be in the morning and in the days to come. But not right now, not here, with Ivar before him. Giving in to him. Giving up control for once.

Still the most remarkable sight Heahmund had ever seen. For one thing Ivar didn't understand, to Heahmund he was the greatest warrior to have ever lived. From the first time that Heahmund had come to realise that he was the mastermind behind all the viking attacks, that he was the one who'd bested Heahmund's plan and turned it around on him.

Heahmund smiled at Ivar, tenderly, in a way they both allowed only seldomly, as he leaned in to kiss him, slow. Tenderness, a thing in this world that Ivar just seemed not to be cut out for. That he spurned like the dog kicked once too often. Still all the brittle seams and edges that made him up seemed to be made out just for it. Had there never existed a being in this world that craved it in such a desperate and futile way.

"I wanna believe, Heahmund." Ivar repeated those words from long ago, almost as if in trance. "That there's someone who's always true." 

Heahmund kissed him again. "Stop thinking, Ivar." A smile. "Just for a bit."

Who would have thought that? That they, both proud warriors, would end up so at each other's mercy. And his Alexander the Great, here tonight, so very vulnerable in his arms. For once Heahmund took full advantage of his greater strength and mobility, lifting him and moving him the way he wanted. There was nothing they hadn't seen of each other. No pride or dignity to protect. Only with Ivar there was always pride to protect. Had not Heahmund kissed those legs many times before? Acts without permission granted. Ivar never knew how to ask for anything.

And he could tell there were many things Ivar would ask for. His face flushed, eyes staring into Heahmund's. And then after this whole time just having stared at Heahmund, wide-eyed and almost-holding his breath, his arms reach out pulling Heahmund body flush against his own, one hand coiled into his hair, the other a five-point pattern burned into his neck. Ivar's gasps, hot breath and urgency against his ear, aborted half-words. Heahmund pressed against his body, molding into the embrace, cherishing that moment where they both accepted how weak they were around the other, a little longer. Then he carefully untangled the claw-like hold Ivar had one him, his face still pressed into the crook of Heahmund's neck, one finger after another. He wanted to see his eyes, needed to see his eyes. Blue and so much surer in everything than Heahmund's. And right now, for the first time, asking. Asking for so many things. Asking not to be hurt. Asking to be loved. Asking not to be made to regret the trust they had given. Asking if this could be real. Asking what to do, what to do now with all this. As if Ivar would have ever stopped thinking. Even now.

What are we doing with each other? Heahmund asked himself. What are we doing, Ivar? What possible outcome could there be? Ivar who'd wondered whether Adam and Eve had packed some more apples before they'd left paradise. Ivar who would bring up biblical analogies to mock him, but only showed Heahmund that he'd listened and remembered every single story. Ivar who'd carved a rosary for him. Giving it to him so offhandedly. Dropping it on the floor beside. Because he'd been bored, he'd said.

Now the blue eyes found his again, holding him in place, just like the hand who'd grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"Who do you belong to?" Ivar asked.

"You. Ivar. I belong to you."

Even now with Heahmund inside Ivar's body, that was still true. Truer than ever before.

 

Heahmund could not fathom the look on Ivar's face afterwards. Couldn't figure out the nuances of it. So many emotions always. So contrary often, so ever-shifting. Vulnerable, for sure. A look he'd shown more and more often around him. Like he couldn't help it. And Heahmund, Heahmund couldn't help it either. 

*

"So, now we shall both return to glorious battle." Ivar said. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes." Heahmund replied.

"You and me."

"Me and you, Ivar."

*

They'd been sitting in the great hall, all alone, Heahmund sharpening his sword. Ivar doing, well, whatever it was Ivar was doing.

"Let me tell you a joke, priest." Ivar said, smiling in that faraway way he'd sometimes have. "A man who trusted no one, found a friend. And he loved him above all others. And he trusted the friend after all. And the friend betrayed him. Because he wasn't a friend after all."

"That is not funny." Heahmund replied solemnly.

"No. No, it's not." Ivar agreed sadly.

"Do you want to know what the real joke is?" Heahmund then said, wistfully. "The friend didn't betray him after all."

Silence. Taken aback. Ivar obviously hadn't expected a reply, not that reply certainly. Then, "I do not believe you."

"You never believe me, Ivar." Resigned. Self-ironic.

Angry now. Resolved. "You have betrayed me!" Daring him to repeat his words. "Beg me for your life!"

Heahmund was still calm. "Neither have I betrayed you nor will I beg."

"Do not LIE to me!" Ivar screamed. Then softer again, still angry and most of all tired, "Do not fucking lie to me. No more lies. I cannot hear anymore of them. Did you think I would not hear about Hvitserk leaving?"

"Why did you let him leave then?"

"He would not have told me the truth. And I need to be proven right, this time." A bitter smile, only for an instant. Then shuttering down again, game mask on again. "Had I stopped him, Lagertha would have known that I know." A pause, Ivar settling his thoughts back onto more pressing matters than his own turmoil. "And now I shall have to change my plan."

Heahmund was waiting for the guards to be called in, for him to be dragged off, or executed on the spot. Instead, Ivar seemed to forget all about him. Sat down again to ponder over maps and plans.

And when he was done, he turned back to him and told him the new plan of attack.

"Tell me, priest, will you let me know your thoughts on it? One last time." Ivar tilted his head, smile crooked and manic, eyes speaking of grief and disillusionment.

People could never truly know each other. But with him and Ivar it seemed they knew each other too well.

"Ivar, that's..." Heahmund composed himself again. "You can't use that plan. That's the plan I told Hvitserk!"

Ivar laughed. "Why Heahmund, I have to commend you. You don't give up easy. But it's over. Just sit back and wait."

"I'm serious, Ivar." Heahmund repeated, more insistent, jaw set. "If you do that you will lose."

"Let's say I would believe you. I'm supposed to believe you thought up that particular plan?" Ivar raised an eyebrow, considering him with a snort.

"I've been with you for a long time." Heahmund simply replied.

"And you know me so well, huh?" An almost hateful twitch in Ivar's face. Who he was hating wasn't clear though. Then Ivar pulled Heahmund into a brutal kiss that went on longer than it should have and left them both with the taste of blood in their mouths. "I'm not even sure if I can even be mad at you," Ivar continued, with a self-ironic shrug. "After all I'm to blame. You only did what you had to. You grabbed the chance when it provided itself."

"Sadly enough, I did not." Heahmund said wearily. Then with steel and confidence in his eyes. "And if you kill me now that is for you to live with. At least I will know my conscience is clean."

Ivar's hands clapped a short staccato. "You say it so beautifully, priest." he said with fake joviality. "Must be all those sermons. And I want to believe you." A finger pointed at Heahmund, almost stabbing in it's intensity. "But I won't. This game is over. I have my answer."

"Ivar, don't–"

"Afraid to die after all, Heahmund? Won't you go straight to heaven anyway? Well, maybe not any longer. I'll even give you time to pray, if you want."

"No," Heahmund interrupted him harshly. "Don't use that plan. Just," He closed his eyes, a silent appeal, getting his next words in order. "Please, when Hvitserk returns, question him, torture him if you must. I'm sure you have ways to find out whether he's telling the truth. If you don't believe me, believe your own abilities. And then, for the love of God, don't use that plan!"

"Priest, this seems to trouble you a lot." Ivar shook his head with an opaque smile. "Why, you seem really concerned."

Heahmund let his head fall back against the wall, bringing his hands up to press against his eyes for a moment, before he faced Ivar again. "I don't know. I don't know what I can say. What can I say? What can I say so you will at least consider my words?" Desperation now. True desperation.

Ivar saw it. And he reacted to it. Not immediately. Disdain and mockery alike washing over his face in alternation. And a few others that Heahmund couldn't even fully categorize. A few times he seemed about to speak. And then. Ivar's face shifted, torn and insecure now. His voice was rough. "Swear. Swear to me by your god."

Heahmund's voice was equally rough, solemn still. "I swear by God, the father, by my lord Jesus and my own immortal soul, that I have been true to you."

Ivar gritted his teeth, his eyes ablaze with doubt and anger and pain and hope. "I will believe you," he said. "I will keep my own plan. And if..." He swallowed. "If you lied to me..." He didn't finish. Just stopped. Not to be ominous, it was clear what would follow. Not as a threat. Just as if he was too tired to continue. Then he did after all. Smiled now, weakly. "If you lied. And if I die in battle tomorrow. I'll have them send you home. It's only what you deserve after having played me like this to the end." A sharp painful laugh at the end. Before Heahmund could reply anything, "I will see you in the morning. We wouldn't want Lagertha to become suspiscious by you not being at my side on the battlefield."

With that he left. Only sending several guards to watch Heahmund in his rooms.

*

"Hvitserk!" Ivar settled beside his brother, clanking his own cup of ale against his brother's. "Are you excited about the battle tomorrow? I know I am."

"Certainly, I will finally be able to make myself a name."

"You have no doubt going against your own flesh?" Ivar asked offhandedly. "I know I don't. But you were always so much more... sentimental." A smirk.

"We all do what we have to, don't we, Ivar? And our fates are already decided. Mine. Yours."

"That is true." Ivar threw an arms around Hvitserk. "I've done you wrong, brother. I never would have thought you would stay at my side. I was so sure you would run back to our brothers."

Hvitserk winced, taking another deep drag from his cup, emptying it in one long gulp. The alcohol seemed not to help him, as he stared at his cup with a lost expression. "Thank you, Ivar." he then said simply. "Your fate and mine are connected." A pause and he seemed to be truly looking at Ivar now. "But... You seem sad, Ivar. Why? Tomorrow's battle will be glorious."

"Because we all can't change our fates."

*

Heahmund was standing beside Ivar the next day at the battle, as Ivar had said. So was Hvitserk, as not to spook Lagertha. Heahmund could tell the other had no clue, what had happened.

Heahmund had never seen Ivar truly nervous. He hid it well. Heahmund doubted that either Harald or Hvitserk could tell. Certainly not Lagertha, all across the field. But Heahmund, Heahmund could tell. And Ivar did not look his way, did not look his way just once. As if he couldn't bear to, as if he couldn't bear to see him just once, as he was so sure to go into his doom and still had chosen to trust Heahmund, when he so clearly didn't trust him. Or maybe he didn't trust himself.

*

And then the battle was over. Lagertha having attacked exactly as Heahmund had told Ivar. They had won. Lagertha's troops, those that remained, had been strewn into the wind. 

And Heahmund strode across the battlefield, as Ivar climbed down from his war chariot. Clumsily for once, as if drunken, or just completely overwhelmed. Then Heamund stood in front of him. And he didn't know where all this left them. Did not know if Ivar would look at him again.

And Ivar suddenly pulled him into a hug. Hugged him hard and unexpected. A raw and emphatic moment, lasting long enough for Heahmund to feel the frantic beat of Ivar's heart against his chest, even through their armors, but not long enough at all. Leaving Heahmund with a burning pain in his chest.

*

"It was a good plan, you came up with." Ivar conceded as they were back in Kattegat. Not yet any celebrations, still warriors returning, everyone for now just wanting to rest.

"Lagertha would have never believed it to be yours had it not been." Heahmund replied.

"You didn't do it." Ivar stated, suddenly, as if the realisation had only just hit him. Wonder and disbelief carrying in his voice. One shaking hand reaching for Heahmund's face. Just touching. "You were true to me."

"It is as I said." Heahmund said. "I won't hurt you. At this point, I couldn't. And you're to blame for that. I'd like to make myself believe that it's with intention you did this. But we both had intentions and neither turned out as we thought."

"Why on earth did you not do it?" Ivar asked again, uncomprehending, shaking his head. "How could you possibly not do it?"

"If I did betray you it would last more heavily on my soul than any other sin I could commit for you."

Ivar threw his arms around Heahmund once more. And Heahmund lifted him up and carried him to their bed.

God forgive him. Or maybe God had already forgiven him. Maybe God who'd known him since he was a boy, who'd seen all his shortcomings and struggles, loved him despite it. Loved him all the same. And had accepted all of them long ago. As a part of these fragile, faulty humans he had created, who were all his children nevertheless.

*

"What did she offer you to betray me?" Ivar asked him later, what felt like ages later, after the world had turned and changed completely.

"To send me home."

"I won't offer you the same." Ivar said.

"I didn't think you would."

"You must never leave me."

"The day will come that you will let me go."

"No, it won't."

"We will see, Ivar."

***

'Cause I've heard things 'bout you too  
Makes me know that I'm for you

Oh, no, I don't care what's been done here before me  
I don't give a damn, just as long as you care  
'Cause, baby, I've been bad, but the heavens forgave me  
You don't need to ask 'cause I'm already there

Let's be bad together, if only for a while  
Let's be bad together, make the devil smile

(Dua Lipa - Bad together)

**Author's Note:**

> After I read that Heahmund's captured at the end of the episode anyway, I changed the story from Heahmund saying that he fell unconscious on the battlefield and Hvitserk claiming he found him, to there actually being a prisoner exchange.
> 
> By now I've watched the episode and I still don't know what the joke was supposed to be...


End file.
